


clair de lune

by weatheredlaw



Series: wait, don't tell me [5]
Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cancer, Cheating, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Language, Single Parents, Vomiting, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things that didn't happen, couldn't happen, wouldn't happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the anthony bourdain what if

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't very funny and I'm really sorry? I just got this idea in my head of Bob being a sort of Anthony Bourdain of his universe, and then I get more ideas, and then I just kinda threw this together. It's a little sad and I'm sorry. This would also be a good time to remind you the fics in this series aren't all necessarily connected, but maybe sometimes are? I'm confused about it, too.

She's his _biggest fan._

Every Saturday night she watches him in some other country, forcing down food she'll never get to try in her life, riding on rickshaws or taking elevators to the roof of the world's tallest buildings. He's incredible, lives a life that Linda gets swallowed up in, desperately wishes she could be a part of. It's the quickest way to get Hugo to leave her alone when she needs it -- he hates the show, hates how much she loves it, and he _hates_ Bob Belcher. 

So when she finds out her star crush is coming to _her_ town on his book tour, Hugo basically freaks out.

"Linda, you can't go."

"We've talked about this whole you telling me what I can and can't do thing, Hugo." Linda folds a pair of his underwear into a tight square and sets it on the pile. "I don't know what you're so upset about."

"You're _obsessed_ with him!"

"He's a celebrity, Hugo. I could say the same thing about you and Jennifer Aniston."

"That's completely different."

"Of course it is." She folds another shirt and gets up, kissing his forehead. "I'm going to bed."

 

 

 

The week Bob Belcher comes to town, Hugo goes to a food handling conference in Vermont.

"Nothing is going to happen," Linda says, because she knows it and believes it and Hugo is five seconds away from causing a scene.

"No, I know."

"Please be safe."

"Please don't run away with a hotshot TV star."

"Sure, honey." She kisses his cheek and watches him head toward security. She wonders how long it will take him to figure out that she's not in love with him anymore, and the idea makes her so incredibly empty that she sits in the parking lot and cries into a McDonald's napkin for fifteen minutes. Her mother would remind her that anyone could see and if she's going to be a baby about her sad, dead-end marriage, she should at least _do_ something about it. 

But not today. Not this week. She goes home and cleans the house and turns in an assignment for the class she's been taking online and goes to bed. 

 

 

 

For some reason, she'd expected him to look...different. Less approachable, maybe. Less _Bob_ and more _Bob Belcher, adventurer._ He's sort of quiet and awkward when he talks to people, but he's got a good smile and nice handwriting, from the looks of it. Linda feels her stomach roll over as she stands in line. She's one signature and photo away from finally meeting him, and she realizes with a jolt that it's been a two hour wait in line and she'll only get to be near him for fifteen seconds.

 _Worth it,_ she thinks, and walks up to him with a smile.

"Hi."

"Hey." He's looking away from her for a moment, half-smiling before he turns and actually looks at her. And he stops. Completely stops. 

Linda feels something hit her, dead center in the chest, like that time she took a tetherball to the stomach in P.E.

" _Hey._ " His voice is smooth, forced out while he looks at her. "Um. Hi, I mean. Hi. I'm Bob."

"I know who you are."

"I wish I could return the favor." It's a shaky line, but Linda laughs all the same.

"I'm Linda."

"Linda. Okay. Should I sign your book?"

"Yes, please." She holds it out and his fingers brush her and she _blushes_ , right down to the heels of her feet, burning in her rubbery flip-flops. She wishes she'd thought to wear something else, but she had been so nervous and nothing looked right so she just threw something on and now she's standing here in her blue shorts that have little whales stitched on them and a loose pink shirt she's had since high school.

And he can't stop staring at her face. 

"Uh, so Linda. You live here? In town?"

"I do."

"Great, so you could tell me where to eat then."

"Um, I could, yeah--"

"How about after this? You take me to your favorite place?"

" _What?_ "

He laughs, suddenly mesmerizing in his confidence, and signs his name with a flourish in her book, hands it back. "I want you to take me to dinner."

"I--"

"Teddy? Can you help her out?" He looks at her. "You...you want to, right?"

Breathless. "Yes." 

"Great." He rubs the back of his neck. "That's really great."

 

 

 

She takes him to the best hole in the wall seafood place probably on the East Coast, and he orders a Reuben. 

"I'm allergic to shellfish."

"Oh my god." She puts her face in her hands and begins to laugh, probably almost hysterically. "Oh my _god_. Mr. Belcher--"

"Bob. It's...don't call me Mr. Belcher. Please," he adds. "It's okay. See? The sign says it's, like, the best Reuben in New Jersey."

"I'm _so_ sorry."

"It's completely okay." He takes a long drink of his wine. "So. This is a fun place. Tell me about it."

Linda's been coming here for years, with her family and her friends, with Gretchen and Gale and everyone who will come. Hugo never does. There are six tables and you need a key to the bathroom which is outside in a tiny shed that smells like Lysol. He hates it. He hates almost everything, though, so Linda doesn't push it. She's talking and talking about how the chef's brother catches the seafood and how the rice is amazing and how everything tastes like her childhood here -- butter and soft, pink crab meat and the smell of fish oil.

"That's amazing."

"It _is_ , because--"

"No, I mean the way you talk about it. It's...it's incredible."

"Oh." She grabs her glass of wine and drains it and doesn't look at him, staring at the bread on a plate in the middle of the table they make here in the morning and she remembers the way it smelled and the way Hugo couldn't stand it and that had been their first fight because he couldn't and wouldn't love the things she loved -- 

"Linda?"

"I'm married," she says. "And I'm hungry."

"I can fix one of those things."

"Right." She laughs and orders another glass of wine and puts her face in her hands. "This isn't being recorded?"

"Nope. Just us."

"Great. That's...that's great."

Bob sighs. "How about I just...we'll get this to go, and I'll make sure you get home."

"Yeah." Linda looks out the window and sighs. "That's probably a good idea."


	2. the single mom what if

For some reason, it never seemed to work out. For a few months they tried it, a few months more after Tina was born, but Bob was restless even then and Linda couldn't bring herself to _make_ him marry her. And he's a good dad, he's a really good dad, but he'd be a terrible husband. 

Sometimes it feels like he's still this long distance boyfriend she has, because every time he's in town, they fuck. 

"I wanna bring you both into the city next week. The new place is opening up, you'd love it." He kisses her temple. "It's got a kid's menu."

"It doesn't."

"No, but I could, for Tina."

Linda rolls over and tucks herself under his chin. "You do everything for Tina."

"Tina is everything," he says quietly.

Linda wants to say _what about me what am I why couldn't I be everything, too_ , but it's wrong to feel that way, wrong to be jealous of her four year old sleeping in her brand new bed in the room down the hall. He's so good to her, so good them both, and it wouldn't be right because he's never asked her for more, never given her trouble about custody or anything like that. He's so _good_ , such a good man and Linda shouldn't want more.

She just...does.

 

 

 

" _City._ "

"That's right sweetie. City. Come on, let's go find your daddy."

Linda's been to New York a thousand times, so the subway is nothing to her. Tina is enthralled with everything, and she's grateful she's four and not fourteen because she might have a bigger problem on her hands than getting her daughter up the escalator. 

Bob is at his new restaurant, but he leaves when they get there to walk them to his apartment. "Mort can handle it, he's good at that stuff."

"You sure?"

"I've got you guys today. Yeah, I'm sure." He takes Tina from her and holds her on his hip, grabbing Linda's hand as they cross the street. She shouldn't _do this_ with him, her mother's said it a thousand times. She shouldn't play girlfriend with him every time he's in town. She should go on a date with Hugo, or even that nice contractor who comes to the same breakfast place she does every morning. She should _do something else_ , but Bob does this thing to her, this thing where it's so easy to picture the two of them living this incredible, quiet life. The one where they have a couple more kids and maybe get married and open the burger place he's been working on, but smaller, on their private terms. She's seen this space across the street from Pesto's and she can _see it_ so clearly -- 

"Lin?"

"Yeah, I'm right here."

 

 

 

Bob convinces her to hire a sitter and go to the restaurant opening with him. He buys her a beautiful dress and stammers all over her and kisses her neck on the subway because they've both already had wine. She lets him because she's still _in love_ and she wishes, she _wishes_ she wasn't.

"This is Linda," he says, and everyone knows who she is. There are no awkward talks about how they know one another, and everyone tells her that Tina is lovely, Bob talks about the two of them all the time, loves that kid to death you know, pity you can't move to the city -- 

"What if you moved here?"

Later, when they're at his place and Linda is still catching her breath because he's still _incredible_ , still the greatest thing that's ever touched her body -- he sits up and looks at her, holding her chin between his thumb and finger, looking at her like she wishes he'd looked at her years ago.

"I can't do that."

"But what if you could?"

"Bobby. We're not doing this stupid hypothetical thing." They're too old for that now. 

"Lin, come on. It'd be amazing, it'd be--"

"Would you marry me?" she says softly. He's quiet. 

"I can't do that." He pauses. "You know I'll never take her away from you, don't you?" Linda nods. "But I miss you all the time--"

"If it were me alone, would it even matter to you?"

"Please don't say that."

She draws her knees up and shakes her head. "We shouldn't see each other like this anymore."

"Linda, I _love_ you."

"That's probably why we shouldn't do this again."


	3. the too old for this shit what if

" _Honey._ " She throws her arms around him and Bob feels the wind rush out of his chest. " _There_ you are." Arm linked with his, she drags him out of the bookstore and onto the street. Bob has to toss the book in his hand on the floor the sensors go off, and he's still trying to figure out what the _hell_ is going on when the woman lets him go and starts laughing. " _Alright!_ You are a hero, sir. An absolutely hero."

"Uh. Hi?"

" _Hi._ I'm Linda, and you're my savior."

"That's...good to know." The people in this town are weird. Bob's been learning that since he opened the restaurant. His landlord is weird and his customers are kind of weird and everyone is kind of _weird_. So he isn't really surprised that this random woman is dragging him along. "You okay?"

"Just avoiding my ex. I've been telling him I'm with someone for weeks and he doesn't believe me."

"Yeah I can see how having a pretend boyfriend would be a difficult front to maintain." 

"You're real enough."

"And also not your boyfriend."

She laughs. "I'm thirty-five. I'm too old for this boyfriend stuff." She looks at him. "Wanna get sushi?"

"Uh, sure."

 

 

 

So her name is Linda and she's weird. 

Good weird, though. A solid, funny, certain weird. Bob likes it. He's into it. 

He likes that she's the one who buys dinner without asking, and makes him walk her home, and tells him exactly what she wants from him while he stands awkwardly on the steps of her apartment.

"So?"

"Uh--"

"You say that a lot," she says, right before she kisses him.

Her hair is thick between his fingers, and he can't get his hands out of it all night, doesn't _want_ to and realizes pretty damn fast that he might not ever want to be away from her again. It's a heavy thought and she can tell something's on his mind while she wanders around the room looking for a t-shirt to sleep in. 

"I think I'm in love with you?" he says.

"What?" Linda turns, her smile crooked and unsure and Bob sits up in her bed.

"Holy shit. I think I love you."

"You just met me."

"Yeah, I know, it's freaking me out."

She pulls on a shirt and crawls over the bed, sitting across from him. "Bobby."

"You should call me that all the time. You should marry me."

"Oh my _God_ , Bobby--"

"Lin, I'm serious."

She looks at him. "What did you call me?"

"I--"

She throws herself into his lap and kisses him, digs her fingers into his hair and they make love again and again until she's panting into his neck and she tells him she loves him and she'll be with him and go anywhere with him just take her, take her again, and don't let go --


	4. the cancer fucking sucks what if

He hates the chemo. He hates it so fucking much. He hates it the -- fuck, what's that poem? It's about love, right? _The depth and breadth of my soul._

He hates the volunteers, too. These women just a little older than his mother was when she died, wandering around with saltwater taffies and double bubble and candy cigarettes. Bob doesn't want _candy._ He wants a real cigarette. He wants his old man to come with him, just sometimes. He wants a beer. He wants a _burger_ \-- but he's drinking tepid water from the sink and chewing on saltines because he'll regret it later if he doesn't.

There's a woman about his age walking with the volunteers today. She looks bored, like she's going to bolt, but her _I'm a Volunteer!_ button is keeping her chained to the group. Eventually, they wander into the room with their candy and Bob is thinking about flipping over the little table holding all the tubes he has coming out of his body when one of the volunteers asks if anyone wants to say behind and chat with the patients and the woman Bob was watching throws her hand up like she's trying to take off. 

When the rest of the group files out, she takes the box of taffies, finds a chair, and falls down into it. 

It's only Bob and some eighty year old guy left in the room, and he's definitely asleep, so Bob says, "Hi," and the woman just makes noises at him. "Is that good?"

"Not really."

"They're always trying to make me eat it."

"Can you?"

"Not really."

She snorts and shoves another piece into her mouth before she swallows and says, "I'm Linda."

"I'm Bob."

"You look like a Bob."

"I get that a lot." 

She laughs and leans back in her chair. A nurse comes in and out, ignores both of them to wake up the old man and get him back to his room. Bob still has forty-three minutes left of his treatment. Then he'll crash here for an hour, puke his guts out, and maybe see if Teddy can give him a right home. 

"The lady said you were dying." 

" _What?_ "

"The woman who brought us in here. She said you were dying."

"I don't even _know_ her."

"Yeah, I figured she was full of it." Linda tosses the empty box of taffies into the trash. "You seem okay."

"I don't feel very good, but I'm not dying."

"My sister had a lump last year, and now she gets a mammogram every six months."

"I don't think she has to do it that often."

"Do you have breasts?"

"No."

"Okay then."

 

 

 

The second time he's in, she's there again, this time alone, eating the candy cigarettes. Bob takes one when he offers it to her, and she moves closer to him. 

Bob says, "So are you gonna ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"What's wrong with me."

"Um. No? Why would I do that, you're sick you said so. You've got like eleven tubes in your arm."

"The last woman that hung out in here used to ask everyone."

"That's kinda rude."

Bob nods. "It was."

"If you wanna tell me, you can tell me. You want another one of these?" Bob takes one, and they eat in silence.

 

 

 

Probably the fifth time she's there, she gives him a ride home. Teddy's on a late night job, Mort's asleep, and his dad doesn't answer the phone after nine. 

"Where's your mom?"

"She's dead."

"Oh."

"Yep." Bob leans against the window and wonders if she'd get mad if he threw up in her car. "I have a tumor on my back."

"Okay."

"They were going to try to take it out, but it's gross and huge right now."

"You're trying to make it smaller." He nods. "Is it working?"

"I don't know."

"Do you feel better?"

"No."

At a stop light Bob closes his eyes, and he feels her hand rest on his leg, soft and warm and different. 

 

 

 

Maybe the tenth time she's there, she takes him home and comes upstairs, and they make out on his couch. And it hurts his back and he has to run into the kitchen and throw up, but she puts a hand on his neck and says quiet things. He thinks she calls him _little baby_ and he thinks she calls him Bobby and he thinks he cries, but maybe it's all a chemo dream, he doesn't know. 

In another life, he's not sick and he meets her at a better time and they're happy together.

But right now, he's rotting away from the inside out and she's the first sweet thing he's had in months.


	5. the never meet what if

Bob thinks his anniversary was in September.

No, it's October. He married Barbara in October. 

_Doesn't matter,_ he thinks, signing his divorce papers. He signs them and gets back to work. Teddy thinks he should date again, but he's not going to. 

Across town, Linda Habercore meets her husband for lunch between inspections, and orders a burger medium well.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm @ catchbooker on tumblr, but not very often. I like to skype and make new friends.


End file.
